Kiss Me, I'm Irish
by Namarie Elbereth
Summary: Just a Destiel ficlet for St. Paddy's Day. Castiel suffers the consequences of not wearing green. Rated M only to be safe.


Here's a little something I wrote for a friend in honor of St. Paddy's Day. I rated it M just in case. It would really only be for alcohol? Which isn't even really a big issue... I guess there's sex? But again, probably not an issue. And of course I don't own Supernatural blah blah blah.

* * *

"C'mon Cas, let's go. Wanna get to the bars while it's still actually the seventeenth."

To say that Castiel was confused would be an understatement. No sooner had he gotten to the motel than Dean announced that since Sam was too busy being a nerd for research, he was taking Cas out. When he had tilted his head and inquired as to why, the hunter had given him an incredulous look and said "Saint Paddy's Day, man" as if it explained everything.

It did not.

"I don't understand. You are neither Irish nor religiously devout. Why is this particular feast day of import?"(This question earned a half-hearted snort from Sam).

The eye roll that happened every time Dean had to impart some piece of inherent cultural knowledge was not entirely unexpected. "Dude, 'Kiss me, I'm Irish?' Hot drunk redheads."

This statement was accompanied by the man's patent leer, the combination of a nodding head and a knowing smile (Castiel had attempted this expression only once and had been met with Dean roaring in laughter and Sam choking on his coffee in a polite effort not to do the same). Pointedly ignoring both the leer and the fact that the category of "hot redheads" had once included his _late angelic_ _sister_, he was about to reply when Dean decided it was time for them to just leave already.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean had literally pushed him at the first girl they met (Castiel noted absently that she was not, in fact, a redhead). She didn't seem to mind that he wasn't really talking to her as long as he nodded along with what she was saying. However, after several looks from Dean that meant _say something_, he settled for informing her that her necklace was of a four-leaf clover and not a shamrock. Castiel proceeded to explain the difference and then, since she seemed interested, how St. Patrick had used the shamrock to teach the Irish about the Holy Trinity. He was just thinking how proud Dean would be, when she abruptly stated she wasn't into Jesus freaks and walked away.

The next four girls weren't any better. Dean's own (redheaded) date had left after Castiel told her friend that Saint Patrick wasn't actually Irish.* When the hunter gave him an exasperated look, Castiel suggested it might be time he left. He was obviously preventing Dean from enjoying the 'hot drunk redheads' and besides, people kept pinching his rear.

He explained this to Dean and was surprised when the man just laughed and steered him towards the exit. "It's because you're not wearing green, Cas. You're supposed to wear green on St. Patrick's Day."

By this point they had reached the parking lot. The angel was about to remark on how St. Patrick was originally associated with the color blue** when he felt another, rather forceful pinch on the butt. He turned to frown at Dean, who just smiled at him, laughter crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Hey Cas. Kiss me, I'm Irish."

"You're not Irish, Dean. And neither am I."

Dean kissed him anyway.

It wasn't the most romantic kiss ever, mashed against the side of the Impala with Dean more than slightly drunk and tasting like beer and cheap whiskey. But when Dean groped around him and pulled open the back door, Cas didn't hesitate to slip inside.

The next morning, Dean would wake up naked in the back seat with a hangover and a thoroughly debauched angel. The resulting gay-for-a-celestial-meat suit crisis would only be resolved after a long, _long _talk, in which Sam groped his feelings and made so many bitch faces he started to think it would stick that way. But for now, Dean was about to experience everything Cas had ever learned from the pizza man.

* * *

*St. Patrick is believed to be either from Wales or from Cumbria.

** My grandmother told me this when I was younger. I don't really have anything to back it up other than the word of a crazy Irish lady, but I put it in there anyway.


End file.
